Goodbye Cruel World
by big tears
Summary: One-shot. "Maybe he did want to die. Maybe it would be better than having to sit and wait to slip into an abyss of nothingness and anti-noise. "


Disclaimer: Not mine. That's all you need to know.  
  
A/N: Emeryss: *puts on some sad music* Alright. Time for another angsty one-shot from me! How terribly exciting for you all!   
  
Rumplepuss: Excuse me, but I am your Muse, so it's really time for another angsty one-shot from ME. *gives Emeryss a pointed look*  
  
Emeryss: *rolls eyes* Fine. All bow to Rumplepuss, King of Depression and Lugubriousness. Are you happy now, Sir?  
  
Rumplepuss: *grins proudly* Yes, thank you.  
  
Emeryss: Good. Now c'mon, Rumplepuss. Let's go get a pizza while the lovely reader takes a look at our latest creation. *grins*  
  
Rumplepuss: N'kay.  
  
*both walk over to Papa Murphy's*  
  
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There is a lot of hurt, anger, turmoil and discontent in life. It seems people are all involved in striving for happiness and contentment and yet for many their goal eludes them time after time. Knowing what factors bring satisfaction and, conversely, what does not, could be of prime importance. Probably the most basic of all needs is to love and be loved. When one is loved it brings a sense of belonging and being cared for. These feelings in turn generate increased security and self-esteem. The knowledge of this allows a person to go outside of their own interests abd in turn care for and love others. When individuals do not feel a sense of belonging they create mistaken goals and pursue them thinking to find the happiness that eludes them.   
  
--Rodger Trent Wentz  
  
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It was very cold, wherever he was. It smelled of mold and water, and the steady dripping noise of a leaky faucet could be heard somewhere in the left. It was dark, and it was very gray; the room being made of gargantuan slabs of granite. There were no windows, there was no door, and there was no one occupying the place but himself.  
  
He shuddered. He hated being alone almost as much as he hated the dark. The dark was bad. Bad Things lived in the dark, and being alone only meant the Things could kill you faster.   
  
He didn't want to die. He still had his whole life ahead of him. He needed to graduate, get married, have a child... There was still so much to do...  
  
He didn't want to die.  
  
/This is what you get for being impertenant,/ he told himself bitterly. /This is what you get for your cowardice, your disobedience... You couldn't have just gone along with the whole blasted thing, oh no. You had to be a rebel. This is what you get for your idealistic visions, and even thinking that you could betray Them./  
  
Them. Those black-clad, masked murderers. He couldn't look a single one of them in the face without wanting to retch. They had to serve under someone, praying that someday their faithfulness would be recognized. They were completely dependant on their magnificent master, and couldn't do anything for themselves.  
  
They had wanted him to become like them, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't sink so low as to beg someone else for power, to torture innocent people for the mere purpose of feeling a surge of sadism in his blood as he watched them twitch before their lights were snuffed. Snuffed by /him/, nonetheless.   
  
He didn't want to kill people... And he didn't want to die.  
  
He sighed, sprawling out on the frigid stone floor, his head resting atop his filthy hands. He had been here for so long now. He just wanted it to be done with. Earlier in his imprisonment, he had searched for some piece of sharp rock so that he could end his life without any more hunger, thirst, or pain. Much to his anger and frustration, however, the whole place was as smooth as satin.   
  
It was pointless. He was just going to lie here until one of the Bad Things decided he looked tasty and dejected enough. Then it would all be over, and he could be on his merry way to Heaven, or Hell, or wherever it was that they'd put him.   
  
Maybe he did want to die. Maybe it would be better than having to sit and wait to slip into an abyss of nothingness and anti-noise.   
  
No one would wonder where he had gone.  
  
No one would care.  
  
It was dark in the room made of disgustingly gray granite. So dark that even if someone had been watching him in that cell, they wouldn't have been able to see the decisive look on his pale face as he voluntarily held his breath...  
  
... and never let it go. 


End file.
